


Don't Remember Me

by Just_b_natural



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Blood and Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Gay Sex, Good Draco Malfoy, M/M, Obliviation, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, St Mungo's Hospital
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24175603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_b_natural/pseuds/Just_b_natural
Summary: Draco Malfoy's life takes an unexpected turn when Harry Potter appears in his apartment with no explanation, injured and confused. He is taken to St. Mungo's, where it is found that Harry doesn't remember anything. Not even who he is. While Draco tries to avoid getting sent to Azkaban for a crime he didn't do whilst battling unemployment, he also has to grapple with his own emotions. Harry Potter doesn't remember him. And Draco didn't want to admit that he yearned for it to stay that way.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

When Draco woke up one cloudy, grey morning, there was no indication that his day would differ from his usual routine. After another long, restless night of unsettling dreams of being chased by several entities, typically ranging from wild animals to Lord Voldemort, he yet again laid in bed for much longer than he knew he should. But, once he saw he only had 15 minutes to get ready, he hastily got up and quickly dressed out of his pyjamas and into his clothes for work.

This was quite usual for Draco, and he was adjusted to quickly arranging his entire morning routine into a span of fifteen minutes. Every morning, from the minute he got out of bed he would be hurried and in a rush. This feeling of being on edge typically lasted all day, even after getting to work. It was the pressure of having to be on top of every little thing, every little detail that made him uptight and rigid. He was determined to keep this job, as finding one tended to be quite difficult when his family name was tainted with dark history. Fresh out of the war, he was unwanted by most. The job he managed to obtain was like finding a pot of gold. A pot of gold that he had to endure constant pressure to keep. He supposed his perfectionist tendencies could also have been a result of his upbringing, which held constant expectations of being orderly, proper and perfect. But he was quite used to being like this and he couldn’t care less if people thought he walked around with a stick up his ass. It’s not like people liked him either way, and at least this kept him employed. 

But this particular morning, just as he had been ready to apparate to work, he wast startle with a nasty surprise in the living space of his one-room flat. With a startling crack, Draco ran to the room with a start just in time to hear another crack, and see Harry Potter, covered in grime, dirt. He carried a dazed expression, and as he stumbled he left dirt stains on the pristine carpet Draco had worked so hard to keep clean. Draco stood in shock for a moment before grabbing his wand and pointing it at the man in anger. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Draco asked in outrage. The man just looked back at him in confusion. He looked around the flat, and back at Draco. 

“I- I don’t really know.” Potter answered, startled. Draco stood there and sputtered, not sure of what to say, but thinking a handful of profanities in his mind he had the urge to spout out at Potter. Did Potter really think he could apparate here unannounced, with no explanation, and dirty his living room?! What was this?! The nerve of him! Was this a surprise search? Was the ministry, once again suspicious of him hiding “Dark Artifacts”?

Just as Draco was working up to tell Potter he couldn’t just show up, without a warrant, He noticed that blood that was dripping onto the carpet, leaving stains of crimson along with the dirt. Draco felt a sudden wave of panic as he looked at Potter and noticed where the blood was coming from. A large dark spot was forming on the man’s abdomen. How Draco didn’t notice it before was a wonder. When Potter saw Draco’s panic, he looked to where his gaze was and gasped. Potter put his hands to his own wound, and they became stained with red too. He looked towards Draco with a confused and panicked expression, before collapsing to the floor.

Draco just stared at Potter’s unconscious body for a second, his mind still trying to process what had happened. But, in a split second, he came back to his senses and hurried over to him. Potter was sprawled flat on his back, his wound still gushing blood. The sight sickened Draco, and he turned away with a wince, and muttered “ _ Accio  _ towel.” 

One of his white towels zoomed through the flat towards him, and he caught it in his hand. He bundled it up and hesitantly pressed it to the injury to contain the bleeding. Draco shook his head, and muttered to himself, his face pale with worry. He didn’t want to try and perform healing magic on a wound so big, as not only could it be infected with dark magic, but he could very easily mess it up. He’d never performed healing magic on a wound this big before, and he didn’t even know what caused it. 

This was bad. Very bad. Harry Potter was bleeding out in his sitting room, and Draco was going to be very late for work. He didn’t know what to do. If Harry “Saviour of the Wizarding World” Potter died in his living room, he would surely be framed for his murder and sent to Azkaban. He was already walking on eggshells with the Ministry; Infamous for the dark days of the war and poor choices he and his family had made, he was distrusted by most. Although he was lucky his trial went well enough to keep him from being imprisoned, Harry Potter dying in his place of residence would be an excellent excuse for them to lock him up. Draco knew he needed to get him help, and fast. 

And then there was work. He was walking on eggshells there too, as not many places were willing to hire former Death Eaters, and the disgusting, faded mark on his arm made it even worse. There was also the fact that his surname was disreputable, as everyone now knew the wealthy Malfoy family had chosen  _ twice _ to side with Voldemort. And Draco, who had put in so much effort to show he was now distanced from those views, was still left with the burden of his past and not a penny of the family fortune to his name. The fact he managed to get such a well-paying job with a dark mark on his arm was a blessing, even if he did have to put up with constant stress and effort to keep it. Everyday he showed up on time. Everyday, he put up with nasty glances from coworkers and the constant eyes of his higher-ups to make sure there wouldn’t be any “funny business”. He put in so many extra, unpaid hours because they had made sure to remind him that he was lucky to have been employed at all, and that he was there out of the kindness of their hearts so if he didn’t exceed expectations, he would be fired. And then where would that lead him? Unemployed and struggling again. 

But now, he was late for work, and if that wasn’t enough, he surely would be fired if they found out Harry Potter was in his flat with signs of fowl play. No one would hire him again after that, even if he did manage to stay out of Azkaban  _ again _ . The stress of the situation was making Draco feel even more sick. 

He looked back down at the towel he held to Potter’s laceration, and realised it was quickly becoming soaked with blood. The sight made him gag, as if the smell wasn’t enough to make him want to leave the room. He knew he needed to do something quickly. He knew being falsely accused of assault would at least be better than being falsely accused of murder. Anyways, there was a chance that maybe the legal system wouldn’t falsely accuse him. Maybe he could even be proclaimed a hero, for saving Harry Potter. Forgiven and redeemed of all his past mistakes and given a new title, as the man who saved Harry Potter. 

The thought of that put a yearning in Draco’s heart. Forgiven and Redeemed. All past mistakes forgotten. Maybe he wouldn’t even get fired. He might even have more leniency at work. The thought was very appealing to Draco, enough that in an instant he decided he would have to get Potter admitted into St. Mungo’s immediately . 

  
  


***

By the time he and Potter had arrived, he noticed Potter looked very sick. This worried Draco, because if he was too late, and Potter died, then he’d surely be charged with at least manslaughter. 

Healers, all wearing lime-green robes, rushed around Potter, who was laying on a levitating stretcher frantically. Draco watched, entranced as they performed spells to contain the bleeding and check his vitals. They hurried the injured man into another room. Draco tried to follow, but was stopped by a rather tall healer with short strawberry-blonde hair. 

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to follow me.” She said seriously. Draco frowned and followed her through the hospital hallway into a small room with several chairs. She motioned for him to sit and he did. She sat across from him and pointed her wand at the door, which snapped shut. She carried a notepad and quill with her, which she looked down at as she spoke. 

“Okay sir, can you tell me your name?” She asked. Draco hesitated. 

“Draco. Draco Malfoy.” He said weakly. His voice sounded dry. The healer looked up from her notepad and narrowed her eyes. Draco noticed her hand twitch towards her wand. 

“Are you aware that the man who you brought in today is Harry Potter?” She asked sternly. Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of  _ course  _ he knew that was Harry Potter. The bloody git is famous. Even if he hadn’t gone to Hogwarts with him, he’d have recognised him. 

“Yes.” He said calmly. He sat silently as she wrote on her notepad. 

“Ok, Mr. Malfoy. Can you recount the events that lead to Mr. Potter being injured?” She asked, looking up at Draco. Draco paused and tried to think through what to say. 

“We need to know exactly what happened so that we can treat him as effectively as possible… so if you got into a fight with him we need to know exactly what spells you used.” she added. 

“This didn’t happen because we got into a fight.” Draco said bitterly. “I hadn’t even talked to him for over a year. I was simply in my flat, getting ready to go to work, when I heard him apparate in my sitting room. I went in and looked, and there he was, covered in dirt and blood. I asked him what he was doing there and he said he didn’t know. He then collapsed, and I tried to contain the bleeding by putting a towel to his wound. I then proceeded to bring him here.” 

The Healer looked at him skeptically, set her notebook and quill down in her lap to bring her full attention to Draco. 

“I hope you are aware, Mr. Malfoy, that we can bring an Auror here to talk to you for withholding information from us or lying.” She told him firmly. 

“I’m not lying, nor withholding information from you. Why would I? I have nothing to hide.” Draco told her. “ I wouldn’t bring him here in the first place if I wasn’t as concerned for his safety as everyone else. He is a very important figure to the wizarding world, and an accomplished Auror, as you probably already know. I told you everything that happened from my perspective. To get the full story of what happened, I suggest you try and investigate what he was doing previous to appearing in my flat. Merlin knows what he stumbles into during his work as an Auror.” 

The healer did not look convinced. 

“So you know that he is an Auror?” She asked. Draco nodded. 

“Well, of course. He’s one of the most famous Aurors alive.” Draco said. 

“So then why might he have been at your place of residence?” She asked tentatively. “Was it because he was warranted to arrest you or search your home? Are you in possession of any illegal artifacts or poisons?” 

“I stated previously, I didn’t know why he was there. I asked him and he didn’t seem to know either. As odd as this situation appears, it seems to me I was just drawn into this by accident.” Draco said wearily.

“An accident that potentially saved his life.” He added before she could speak again. “I am not in possession of any illegal artifacts or poisons. All I know is that everything was normal one second and then Harry Potter was bleeding in my sitting room the next. I can only hope my efforts were enough to ensure his recovery.” 

Draco exaggerated his words carefully to the healer. He didn’t really like Potter that much. He didn’t like him at school and he didn’t really like him now. Although he got over his silly childhood antics and no longer despised the man, he viewed himself and Potter as two different people who will likely never get along or become friends. 

Not that Draco figured either of them would ever even try after the rivalry they had at Hogwarts. The best their relationship towards each other had ever come to was mutual respect, which Draco tried his best to keep up seeing as Potter had saved his life twice in the war despite everything Draco had done to him in the past. Draco felt indebted to him. Thinking about it now, he supposed if Potter made it out alive, maybe it would repay half of it. And if he didn’t… well, Draco didn’t really enjoy the thought of that. Not only would he probably be blamed for it, but guilt would no doubt build up inside of him. The one thing Potter did for him, he couldn’t do back… what kind of man would  _ that  _ make Draco? 

_ Not that I was ever a good man, _ Draco thought to himself dourly. 

The healer sighed, and briefly wrote in her notepad some more before closing it. 

“If you need a note for work saying you were here, you can get one at reception. Otherwise, is there anything else you would like to say before we part ways? Anything you think would be important in regards to finding out what exactly happened to Mr. Potter?” She asked. 

“No. Nothing I can think of.” Draco told her with a regretful twinge in his voice. 

“Very well. You can go.” She said, and walked out the door. Draco sat there, lost in thought for a few seconds before getting up and heading off to the reception area. 

***

Draco got home from work early, a grimace stuck on his face. As soon as he walked through the door, he saw the dirty carpet and his mood went further down than he thought possible. He cast the Scouring charm, to clean it. He had to cast several other spells to get the blood off because the red substance had soaked into the colour of the carpet. Then he simply sat in his chair, his head resting on his hand, facing the window as tears ran down his face. 

When he returned to work earlier that day, his boss, Mr _. Dickhead,  _ told him that he’d been let go. Didn’t care about the stupid note from St. Mungo's. Said it was for unrelated reasons and they were downsizing. But Draco knew that if he hadn’t been a Death Eater, if he hadn’t had the goddamn Dark Mark to curse his life, he wouldn’t be in this situation. He worked so hard every day. He was the perfect employee. He was never late, he always worked extra hours when asked, he never took this job for granted. He’d done nothing wrong at work. What was wrong that he  _ used  _ to be an awful person. Or maybe he still was. He didn’t know.

He just knew he had three months to get another job before he ran out of the money he needed to pay for his bills and food. Food. Draco suddenly realised he hadn't eaten all day. But he didn’t feel hungry. He just felt stressed out, depressed, and nauseous. Maybe he was nauseous because he was hungry. He didn’t care.

He sighed sadly. This had to be one of the worst days he’d had in a long time. He found himself thinking about Potter. He had lots of painfully unanswered questions rolling through his mind about what had happened that morning. What had happened to him? Who had done that to him and why? And why had he shown up in his flat of all places? Draco figured he should probably add protection charms around the place. He felt stupid for not doing so before. This all could have been avoided if he had.  _ And Potter probably would’ve died  _ the little voice in his head said. He shuddered, pushing the thought from his mind. 

He put up charms around his flat, but he didn’t feel any safer. He thought about Potter in St. Mungo’s, and found himself worrying. What if he had been too late? What if the profit in the morning headlined “Harry Potter Dead At St. Mungo’s. “ With a caption consisting of something like “Last known person to talk to\Potter a former Death Eater.”? He didn’t want Potter to die. He didn’t deserve to die, not so young, not with so much ahead for him.

Draco realised he was shaking. Probably from going without food all day, he figured. He stood up and walked over to the small kitchen. He grabbed some fruit and nuts and forced himself to eat, so that maybe the nausea and shakiness would go away. He tried to clear his mind as he ate, thinking of nothing but the tastes and textures of what he ate. His thoughts were all weights on his chest he wanted to rid himself of. Worries and stressors that made him feel physically ill. 

_ Why was this happening to me? _ That was a recurring thought that popped into his mind and made him frustrated. Frustrated at life, frustrated at the universe, and frustrated at himself. There were so many negative things about his day that he couldn’t stop dwelling on all of it. But really it boiled down to two things. Work and Potter. Work and Potter. Work. Potter. 

He went to his room, took off his trousers and slid off his collar shirt before collapsing into his bed exhausted. Negative thoughts and stressors clouded his mind, but eventually exhaustion took over and he succumbed to restless sleep full of vivid dreams. But they were only dreams after all. And at least he could sleep in the next morning. Morning. Morning would be better. He hoped. 


	2. Chapter 2

Draco woke up in the morning groggy and disoriented. His mind instantly went to work, and his heart jumped. He was going to be late for work! He sat straight up but then he remembered yesterday’s events and relaxed, laying back down. Work. He didn’t have work. 

The thought of not having to go back and put on a perfect persona all day eased his mind, and he gave a sigh. He could sleep in today if he really wanted. He covered a pillow over his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. But, as he lay there, his thoughts went to Potter. He remembered him, how he had looked so Ill, and his stomach turned to knots. All that blood…

He lay there for a few minutes, several thoughts about Potter running through his mind when he decided he probably wasn’t going to end up going back to sleep. He got up and looked up at his watch, which read 10am. That was much later in the morning than he’d intended to wake up, but part of him had stopped caring. 

He went through his morning routine, taking his time. By the time he went to make breakfast he realised he was incredibly hungry. The entire time he was up and out of bed, he managed not to think about Potter. That was, until he gathered the Daily Prophet from the owl that hooted from his kitchen window as he made breakfast. He mindlessly paid the Owl five knuts, while intently reading the headline of the paper. 

**Harry Potter Admitted To St. Mungo’s In Critical Condition**

_ Yesterday morning, famous Auror Harry Potter was admitted into St. Mungos by an unidentified stranger. Potter was found with severe magical-induced injuries, and had been inflicted with several mind-altering spells. It is unknown who did this to him or exactly what happened, but it is speculated that the stranger who brought him in that morning may have had something to do with it. The stranger was questioned, but presented no information before leaving the hospital. Potter is currently unable to be questioned in his condition, and an ongoing investigation is being carried out. Whether or not the Auror will fully recover is still unknown. A team of the top Healers at St. Mungo’s are pursuing his case, but only time will tell whether the saviour of the wizarding world will manage to recuperate from this unfortunate situation.  _

  
  


Draco stood there, processing what he read. Unidentified Stranger? Mind-altering spells? Draco felt anxiety and frustration build in his chest. They still thought he, the unidentified stranger, had something to do with this. He brought him in, he practically saved his life, and he answered the questions he was asked  _ honestly _ . 

He was brought back when he looked at the pan he was cooking on and realised that the food was going to burn. He swiftly turned the heat off the pan and served what he was making on a plate, before letting his mind wander back. He was still very concerned for Potter. 

Although he didn’t really know him at all these days, and he never befriended him before in his life, there was a sinking feeling in his stomach when he thought about what the Prophet said. He’d had mind-altering spells on him (which probably explained why he didn’t know why he arrived in Draco’s flat when he’d appeared there) and they were  _ unsure of his recovery.  _ The very thought that Potter could never recover from this deeply unsettled him. 

He ate without really paying attention to what he was eating, lost in thought about Potter, a subject that seemed to be sticking in his mind an obsessive amount. He made the decision that he would try and visit him at St. Mungo’s that day. Maybe if he saw him, then his mind would be at peace with the matter. Maybe then he won’t feel so… distracted. Then Draco would immediately start looking for jobs. 

As soon as Draco finished eating, he got dressed (putting on clothes not unlike what he wore the day before, topped with a dark green cloak despite the warm weather), popped a mint into his mouth and set out to leave. He apparated to the entrance of St. Mungos, and soon enough he was back at the reception area. 

Potter was on the fourth floor, so Draco climbed sets of stairs to get to his ward. The entire time his mind was blank. The only thought that went through his head was the number of each staircase he was on. The anxiety didn’t kick in until he got to his destination. 

He headed through the corridor nervously, and nearly reached the ward before being topped by a rather young-looking Healer with short, dark hair who stood outside the door. 

“Who are you here for?” The healer asked him. 

“I’m here to visit Harry Potter. On ward 42?”Draco told him, Remembering what the witch at reception had told him when he’d asked. The Healer frowned, a tired look in his eyes. 

“Are you a friend of his?” The healer asked skeptically. 

“I’d say more of an acquaintance,” Draco said uncomfortably. “We went to school together.” He clarified.

The Healer looked at him warily, and sighed. 

“We’ve gotten a lot of reporters and such trying to come up, claiming to be friends of his so they can find out what happened to him. A big security risk as well, considering we still don’t know who did this to him in the first place. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a searching spell before you enter the ward? To make sure you’re not carrying any items that could be a threat, and to ensure you’re not a reporter.” 

“Alright.” Draco said hesitantly. Although he knew that the spell wouldn't detect the Dark Mark on his arm, he glanced at his sleeve nervously. The Healer cast the spell and he felt a tingling sensation down his body. 

“I apologise for this, but because of all the commotion that this has caused the hospital has had to take precaution in case any reporters have gotten through the warding spells. Also to ensure his safety and privacy, of course.” The Healer said while he performed the spell. 

“I completely understand.” Draco said, although it did really annoy him. The tingling sensation that ran through his body stopped and the Healer gave him a thumbs up. 

“Alright sir, you’re good to go.” The healer told him, and let him inside the ward. 

Once he entered, he saw Potter immediately. He was sitting up in his hospital bed, awake. He did look rather sickly, but considerably less since Draco had last seen him. He was talking to a woman with thick bushy, curly brown hair, tied back with a scrunchie, and a red-haired, freckled man. Granger and Weasley. Well of course, they were either soon to be married or already married, so Draco supposed she could be Mrs. Weasley, but he wasn’t sure. The name Granger stuck in his head, though. 

Granger looked like she was about ready to cry at any moment, and Weasley had his arm around her comfortingly, also wearing a melancholy expression as well. They didn’t notice Draco until they heard him close the door behind him. 

All three of them looked up at him at the same time, all bearing different reactions. Weasley tensed up, automatically bringing Granger closer to him in a protective manner, while reaching for his wand, (Which Granger seemed annoyed with and slightly pushed him away). Aside from the annoyance, Granger had looked stunned to see Draco at first. She then proceeded to carry a look of confusion, but did not appear as hostile towards him as Weasley had looked at him. 

Potter, on the other hand, stared for a minute before giving a slight smile of recognition. 

“I know you!” He said, excitement colouring his tone. Granger and Weasley looked to Potter with surprise. Draco simply gave him a puzzled look. 

“ You know him?” Granger asked him. Draco felt his stomach turn as he remembered how the Prophet mentioned mind-spells. 

“Yeah!” Potter replied enthusiastically. “He’s the first person I remember before coming here... You brought me here, didn’t you?” They all looked at him. 

“Erm. Yeah.” Draco said awkwardly. “I did.” Granger and Weasley looked at Draco with uncertainty. 

“What do you mean you brought him here?” Weasley asked him, pointing his wand towards him intently. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“I  _ mean _ , after seeing him injured and seeing him pass out, I brought him here.” Draco told them with irritation, knowing full well Weasley was speculating that Draco had been the one to assault him . “Do you think I’d be here if I had done this to him? Do you think I’m that thick, Weasley?” 

Weasley lowered his wand slightly, his face reddening. “I don’t know, maybe you’d come to finish the job you started!” He accused. 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Draco motioned to Potter, who had a puzzled look on his face. 

“We can’t.” Granger said softly and dolefully. Draco felt his heart sink at her expression. 

“He’s been obliviated. Most of his memory is gone.” She answered, and looked at Potter with significant sorrow. 

“Ah.” Draco said quietly. “I see.” Potter looked uneasy as the room got silent. Obliviated. Of course, he should’ve figured it out when he first saw him in his sitting room. He’d looked clueless. Of course, Draco hadn’t really noticed because one, Harry Potter had paid an unexpected visit, and two, Harry Potter was bleeding out. But now it made sense. 

Draco felt even worse remembering Professor Gilderoy Lockhart from second year. Rumours were, he’d been obliviated and sent to the long-term residency in St. Mungos. As far as Draco knew, Lockhart was still across the hall, in the Janus Thickey ward. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of Potter being in there too… for the rest of his life. 

“Will he recover?” Draco asked seriously.

“Why should you care?” Weasley blurted out. Draco was taken aback for a second before composing himself again. 

“Seeing as I’m the one who brought him in, I thought I would check to see if he was okay.” Draco sneered. He was beginning to think maybe he shouldn’t have come. He should have considered the fact that, of course Granger and Weasley would be here to visit Potter, and of course they wouldn’t feel very welcomed by his presence. 

“Can we take this outside?” Granger asked with aggravation. Potter was looking rather uncomfortable, sitting in silence. He didn’t argue with Granger’s suggestion. 

Draco and Weasley both gave annoyed huffs, but followed Granger out the door. Draco gave a short wave to Potter, who had a gloomy expression. Potter gave him a small, sad but unexpected smile and waved back. Draco refused to show the startlement he had felt at that small gesture. He brushed it off immediately. The Healer was still outside the door of the ward, so they just continued down the Hallway. 

“Pardon me for saying this, Malfoy, but every interaction you had with the three of us during school was cruel and just- terrible!” Granger said sharply, as they walked. “It doesn’t make sense for you to be here! You were terrible to us, you were a Death Eater, you said and did terrible things. Now Harry’s in the hospital, and this is the first contact we’ve had with you since then. That shit leaves a mark, Malfoy. It can’t be easily forgiven... not that you’ve made it easy.”    
  


“I know it makes a mark, believe me.” Draco said coldly, instinctively grabbing his arm, thankful that his sleeve covered the faded tattoo. He felt a weight on his chest, like there was an elephant sitting on him, crushing him. “Look, I am sorry, okay. I apologise to the both of you. I’d apologise to Potter too, but it doesn’t seem like he’d understand. I know I was a jerk throughout school, and that hasn’t really made my life great, if you haven’t noticed. Say what you wish, but know that I’m at least trying to make amends at this point. I haven’t forgotten, Goyle and I owe you three our lives.” 

There was silence and they just stood in the hall, Granger and Weasley wearing wary expressions. All three of them looked tired. Draco felt like he hadn’t slept in weeks. 

“Look.” Weasley began in an aggressive whisper. “That’s my best friend in that ward. He doesn’t remember me, and he doesn’t remember Hermione. He almost died. And, I suppose, if you really did bring him in like you say, you’re the reason he’s still alive. Harry doesn’t remember you, he doesn’t remember how you were. He doesn’t seem to mind you there and we can’t stop you from visiting. But, I have not forgotten, and I will never forget how much of a dickhead you were. Neither will Hermione. And if you do  _ anything  _ to Harry, if you cause him  _ any  _ harm, you will pay.” 

Draco felt slightly unsettled by Weasley’s threat. But, it wasn’t as if he intended to harm Potter. He was genuinely upset that Potter was here, injured and hurting, Despite everything he’d done in the past, over the past few days he had a realisation he actually cared what happened to Potter. Maybe it was the fact he’d freed him and his family from Voldemort’s grasps. Maybe it was the fact that because of him, everything was different. Or maybe he just felt so, so guilty. 

“Understood.” Draco nodded to Weasley and Granger. “I promise you, I won’t harm him in any way. I just… I wanted to see if he was alright.”

No one seemed to have anything more to say. The past was painful and the present was confusing. So, Granger and Weasley simply gave a heavy nod, and they all headed back to the ward. 

When they walked in, Potter looked up cautiously. But at seeing Draco still there and feeling the tension in the atmosphere slightly lighter, the caution left. 

“Sorry about that, Harry.” Granger told him lightly. “There were just some things we needed to settle. We didn’t want you to stress.” 

“That’s alright… Hermione, right?” Harry asked her hesitantly. Draco noticed Granger’s face fall slightly, although she tried to hide it. She didn’t do a very good job at concealing her emotions, though, in Draco’s opinion. She looked like she was any second away from a complete breakdown. Not that he blamed her, though. If a close friend or family member of his was in this condition, and had forgotten he even existed, he’d probably be close to tears too. It was a very heartbreaking thing to watch. 

“Yep.” Granger said, her voice slightly quivering. Weasley subtly grabbed her hand in comfort. Draco looked away. 

The two of them sat down in the seats they’d been sitting in when Draco had entered the room and Draco sat across from them, on the opposite side of the hospital bed. 

Potter seemed to be pretending he didn’t notice, although he did look quite uncomfortable. 

“Alright. Hermione. Ron.” He scanned the room. Then he looked at Draco “What’s your name?” Potter asked him. 

“Oh, I’m Draco Malfoy. You used to call me Malfoy….” Draco said. Potter gave a look of slight puzzlement. Draco held out his hand. Potter reached out and shook it. He hoped Potter wouldn’t notice or mind that his palms were a bit sweaty. There wasn’t any indication that he did. 

“Good to meet you then… Malfoy.” Potter said, awkwardly. The whole room seemed to carry an awkward silence. Weasley was the first to break it. 

“Well… I’m thinking we should better head out now. Work and all.” Weasley muttered, looking down at his pocket watch. Potter gave a frown. 

“Oh alright.” Potter said, sounding a bit disappointed. 

“I’m sorry, but we’ll visit you tomorrow?” Granger said. Potter gave her a small smile. 

“Yeah, that’d be great. It was great to see you.” He said kindly. They got up, Granger giving as much of a hug as she could to Potter as he sat in the hospital bed. As they walked out, they both waved towards Harry, and gave a swift nod to Draco. The door snapped shut, Potter sighed and the room was quiet. 

“I suppose you’re probably leaving too then?” Potter asked, sounding slightly miserable. 

“Well, would you like me to leave?” Draco told him. “I was only planning to stay for a little bit to see how your condition was, but I have all the time in the world to stay, if you’d like.” Draco was reluctant to admit to himself that he kinda did want to stay. He wanted to talk to a Harry Potter who didn’t know him, who didn’t hate him. A fresh start. 

“I want you to stay... I’m curious about you.” Potter said. This took Draco slightly aback. It was weird to sit here and talk to him without glaring looks or harsh tones. It felt nice. 

“Well, alright.” Draco said. “What would you like to know about?” Potter paused to think for a second. 

“Well Ron and Hermione don’t really seem to like you… what’s that about?” Potter asked. 

“Ah.” Draco frowned. “I think that’s a story for another day.” He said uncomfortably. 

“Oh, okay…” Potter said, giving him a look of intense thought. “Well, can I ask why I only refer to you by your last name? Seems a bit odd… were we friends? If we weren’t, then why are you here and why did you bring me here? Will other people be here to visit too? ” 

“So many questions, Potter, slow down!” Draco said. He didn’t know what he should tell him. He didn’t want to ruin things right from the start, of course. He didn’t want to tell him how they used to hate each other. But he didn’t want to lie to him. Of course, would he ever know Draco was lying? Would he be like this for the rest of his life like Lockhart or was this a temporary thing. Draco realised it probably wouldn’t even matter because if Potter did regain his memory they’d probably go back to mutually disliking each other at best. Like before. Might as well take advantage of Potter not knowing now. One less person to hate Draco. In his hesitation to answer, Potter spoke. 

“Not so much of an open book, huh.” Potter said. Draco scowled. 

“Be patient, I was just about to answer.” Draco told him with a slight sneer. Potter chuckle gave him a playful grin. If Potter was not in the hospital without his memories gone, Draco would have been fuming. But, now, Draco couldn’t find it anywhere in his soul or his bones to be angry at him. 

“Anyways,” Draco continued with a huff. “We were friends, yes. I brought you here because I care about you… everyone cares about you, and you have a lot of friends, so yes there will probably be more people showing up to visit you… . We used each other's last names because you simply preferred that. I couldn’t tell you why. You’ll have to tell me when you get your memories back. But honestly, it’s just something people do. When I went to school, I called my friends by their last names. ” Draco thought of Crabbe and Goyle and suppressed a shudder.

“Alright, well now I guess I’ll just have to become your friend all over again, just as with everyone else, until I get my memory back… But until I remember, I’d rather just call you by your first name. Seems less formal, doesn’t it? Also, I just think Draco is a cool name.” Potter told him. 

Draco simply grinned and shook his head. 

“You sure have changed.” Draco told him. “Unbelievable.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t know.” Potter shrugged. “Hermione told me that memories make up a large portion of personality, yknow. I suppose it’d make sense I’ve changed since I have no recollection of… anything.” 

“How does that work?” Draco asked suddenly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Obviously you haven’t completely lost your memory, because otherwise you wouldn’t remember words or stuff like that. You seem as mentally well as you had been before. Maybe I just don’t know much about memory charms, but you haven’t forgotten  _ everything …  _ how much do you remember?” 

“Well. Haven’t really thought about that before. I guess knowing how to do things like talking is kinda a subconscious thing? I dunno. I know what things are. I just don’t know why I know. I can do spells and magic but I don’t remember how I learned them. I reckon I probably forgot spells too, though. I know I am a Wizard. 

“Hermione and Ron have told me my name is Harry Potter and they’re my best friends. They told me I am 23 years old... that the year is 2003, and it’s April. I apparently went to a wizarding school called Hogwarts with them when I was younger and that’s how we became friends. They told me I’m at a hospital for wizards called St. Mungos. And they told me I lost my memories and got injured… and that’s all they covered before you showed up.” Potter explained. 

“ Well y'know, at least you know spells and stuff. That’s better than nothing…” Draco hesitated as he watched the frown on Potter’s expression. “And, y'know. Remembering everything isn’t all that. I believe the saying is ‘Ignorance is bliss.’ I know it probably feels like you’re missing out, but there are things better off left forgotten…” 

Potter didn’t look all too convinced. Draco figured that’s the problem with human nature. People have the urge to know and experience everything they can, but then something comes along to make them regret all of it. People yearn for answers and in turn they get nightmares.

“Seems like there’s a lot of things you’d rather forget.” Potter said, giving him a sad look. Draco refused to look at him. 

“Maybe so.” He said quietly. “But the best way to forget things is to never speak of them.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t an awkward silence but it wasn’t comfortable. 

“I suppose it’ll be good to make new memories. I hope I won’t be stuck in this place if I don’t get my old ones back…” Potter said. 

“Oh, I bet you’d be able to leave if you didn’t regain your memory. You’re still functional and you know some spells. Plus your rich, I suppose you wouldn’t even need to have a job at this point, you’re definitely well off. The worst case scenario is that you’d need to stay with someone else for protection, but it wouldn’t be difficult to find someone up for the job. Everyone wants to be around Harry Potter.” 

Potter gave him a bewildered stare. “I’m  _ rich _ ?” 

“You sure are. Weas- i mean- Ron and Hermione didn’t tell you?” Draco asked. Potter shook his head. 

“They probably didn’t have the time.” Draco shrugged. 

“Am I famous too?” Potter asked. 

“Yeah. The most famous person in the wizarding world, I’d say.” Draco said, unjustifiable bitterness colouring his voice. But Potter frowned, looking uncomfortable. 

“I thought so.” 

“You don’t seem too happy about it.” Draco said.

“Being famous and having money is cool I guess.” Potter said. “But, I just don’t like people looking at me like I’m special when a couple hours ago I woke up didn’t even know my name. I’ve noticed that. It’s kinda uncomfortable for me. I mean, at least I have a confirmation on why everyone seems to think I’m super special… although. It’s kinda overwhelming. I thought maybe I’d be a teacher or something. That feels like something I’d do, I think? I don’t know. I don’t remember anything about myself, so who am I to say?” 

“Interesting.” Draco muttered to himself quietly. He wondered if Potter with memories would say the same thing about his life. 

“What do you do?” Potter asked him. “You seem to have more time than Ron and Hermione.”    
  


“Oh. I don’t have a job.” Draco said uncomfortably. “I mean I did, until yesterday. But I was late yesterday so they fired me…” 

“That sounds extreme... Were you late because of me? Did I get you fired?” Potter asked, worried. 

“No, no.” Draco assured him. “They just didn’t like me very much.” 

“Alright… well what did you do? Before you got fired?” Potter inquired. 

“I worked for a wizarding insurance company. Very boring, and they paid me very little.” Draco said. He could tell Potter didn’t really have much to say about that. 

“Well if you need a job… since I’m famous and all, I bet when I get out of here, I could get you a job anywhere.If you want, I mean.” Potter said. 

“That’s very kind of you. We can go over the offer again, once you regain your memory and see if you still want to.” Draco said. 

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t want to. You’re my friend, and so far I like being around you… friends help each other out, right?”    
  


“Yes, I suppose.” Draco told him. Potter thought for a second. 

“What did I do?” He asked. “As a job?” 

“You were an Auror.” Draco answered him. 

“What’s that?” Potter asked. 

“An Auror is someone who goes after criminals and dark wizards, and tries to help people. They try to maintain peace, and are usually present in instances of disaster. They try to de-escalate situations and keep people safe.” Draco explained. 

“Oh, I guess that’s not too bad. Helping people. Did that make me famous?” 

“Well…not entirely. You got famous when you were a baby. You made a terrible wizard, who did horrible things to so many people, disappear for a bit. Everyone thought he was dead, actually. But then you got even more famous when you were older. The terrible wizard came back to full power for a couple years, and when you were around 17 or 18, you got rid of him for good. You saved a lot of people. I suppose that was one thing you really knew how to do, save people. So you stuck to it, even after already saving everyone you knew.” 

“You’re making me sound like I’m- like I”m a hero.” Potter whispered. 

“You are.” Draco told him. He looked into Potter’s eyes. They were emerald green. Such a beautiful colour. He hadn’t really noticed before. Potter looked down. 

“I wish I remembered. I feel like a fake right now, an imposter to where the real hero is.” Potter said with a sad expression. 

“You’re not a fake.” Is all Draco could think to say. Draco was the only imposter here… making himself seem better than he actually was. 

“I wish I could remember you.” Potter told him. 

_ No you don’t.  _ was what Draco wanted to say. 

“You’re not missing much.” Draco chuckled. 

“Then why does it feel like I am?” Potter asked with a downcast tone. 

“Trust me, you’re not.” Draco said darkly. He noticed Potter give a little shudder and decided he probably needed to lighten up the mood. But how do you talk to someone who doesn’t remember anything about their life? 

“So, next time I visit. Is there anything you’d like me to bring?” Draco asked him. 

“Not that I can think of. You don’t have to bring anything for me, I just like talking to you. I’m glad there seems to be an inclination of another visit, though. Something to look forward to.” Potter smiled. Draco couldn’t help but smile back.

“Can’t think of a reason why you would.” Draco said. 

“You’re good at conversation. I feel comfortable talking to you. You’re also very mysterious… I have so many questions about you, more than I have about myself. There’s so much I want to know about you. Which is another reason why I wish I remembered you. Since we were already friends I probably knew all about you. Also… you saved me. If you hadn’t brought me here I s’pose I would be dead. You’re a good man… I can tell.” Potter said with a soft smile that made Draco feel like melted butter. 

His words nearly made him want to cry right then and there. He supposed if Potter remembered him, he wouldn’t say any of that. But hearing that was so… comforting. And so sad. It gave him the urge to reach out for his hand, but he resisted it. He had to remind himself this was Harry Potter. If Potter was like his normal self, they wouldn’t be having any real conversation, and Potter certainly wouldn’t have very nice things to say. 

“You’re very kind.” Draco told him “But you’re the better man here.” 

“If you say so.” Potter shrugged. “I simply just don’t believe that’s true.” 

Right that moment the door opened and at the doorway was a concerned Rubeus Hagrid trying to squeeze himself in. He barely noticed Draco as he loudly walked up to Potter, a handkerchief in hand to wipe away tears that ran down his bearded face. Potter’s eyes widened at the giant man, who was starting to compose himself. 

Hagrid looked at Draco and a confused expression spread across his face. Draco simply gave him a piercing look, and shook his head. He subtly pointed to Harry then made a shushing gesture without Potter noticing, as he was too preoccupied with looking at Hagrid and how large he was. He hoped Hagrid would take that as a hint to not tell Potter anything about Draco and not as a threat but somehow that seemed unlikely. Nonetheless, Hagrid didn’t seem to care too much about Draco being there… maybe he won’t bring anything up about Draco. 

“I should probably get going.” Draco said loudly to Potter. “You’ve got another visiter, and I’d hate to intrude.” He noticed Potter’s face fall slightly in disappointment. That made Draco’s heart feel heavy. 

“I’ll be back, though.” Draco told him, and Potter gave a hopeful look, which made Draco’s chest feel very warm. 

“Alright, Draco.” Potter smiled. “What about tomorrow?” 

“See you tomorrow, Harry.” Draco said, feeling feather light. 

Hagrid coughed awkwardly, a sound that reverberated loudly off the walls, reminding him the half-giant was still in the room. He got up and turned to walk out the room. Before he left he looked back and gave a small wave. Harry waved back. 


End file.
